CCXLII.—To Henry Bullinger.[235]

Pleading in favour of the alliance of the Reformed Cantons with France.

7th May 1549.

As time does not permit me to reply to your letter now, I am merely desirous of telling you that I have scarcely ever received anything more pleasant from you, as it served to alleviate a very trying domestic grief, which, occasioned by the death of my wife a little before, was causing me very much sorrow. For I am very glad that hardly anything—or at least very little—hinders us from agreeing now even in words. And, certainly if you think you can so arrange matters, I make no objection against endeavours being made to come hither, that you may the better become acquainted with all the sentiments of my mind. Nor shall it ever be owing to me that we do not unite in a solid peace, as we all unanimously profess the same Christ. But I have, at present, another reason for writing you.

You partly indicate what has kept you back from joining in the French alliance. I confess the godly have just cause of alarm in the example of Jehoshaphat, who bound himself in an unfortunate alliance with a wicked king, to his own ruin and that of his kingdom. Yet I do not so understand it, that he was punished because he made a league with the King of Israel, but rather because he espoused a bad and impious cause, in order to gratify that king's desire. Ambition was inciting him to an unprovoked attack upon the Syrians; Jehoshaphat complied with his wishes and rashly took up arms. Add to this, that they went forth to battle, the Lord through Micaiah forbidding them. This example does not, therefore, so weigh with me that I should pronounce all alliance whatever with the wicked to be unlawful. For I reflect that Abraham was not hindered by any religious scruples from making a covenant with Abimelech. Isaac, David, and others did the same, and received neither reproof nor punishment. I can, however, so far conclude, that alliances of this nature are not to be sought after, seeing they must always be attended with very much danger. But if we be at all incited—I should rather say urged—to it by a just motive, I see no reason why we should be altogether averse to it.

Moreover, as regards the alliance in question, I cannot hold that it should be so avoided, from this cause, unless the present aspect of the times should compel me to adopt an opposite conclusion. You have to do with a professed enemy of Christ, and one who is daily venting his rage against our brethren. He is too little deserving of trust that could wish that both we and Christ were annihilated. It is absurd that we should enter into friendly alliance with one who is at war with all the servants of Christ without distinction; that we should seize, as that of an ally, a hand polluted with innocent blood. And, certainly, I should be unwilling to come to any conclusion on the matter, unless it were the express and distinct wish of the pious brethren. For his ferocity is indeed extraordinary. Besides, I am suspicious of the war with England. For I do not think it right to furnish any aid against a kingdom in which Christ is worshipped; and the very injustice of the cause, also, is another obstacle.

But, again, when I consider how our cause has been weakened, how great are the calamities which still impend, threatening almost the ruin of the Church, I fear much that if we neglect those aids which it is not unlawful to employ, we may fall into a state rather of excessive carelessness than of devout trustfulness. Nor, in truth, am I ignorant that God is especially present with us, and powerfully succours us when we are destitute of all human aid. I know, also, that there is nothing harder, when he reveals himself through some Egyptian shade, than to keep the eye from turning aside; for if they be not fixed on the one God, they rove wickedly and perniciously. We must, therefore, endeavour zealously to counteract these dangers. Meanwhile, however, we should be on our guard, lest if, in this our critical condition, we reject what, without offending God, could have aided us, we may afterwards feel, to our loss, that we were too careless. My first fear is, that our Pharaoh, shut out from all hope of contracting friendship with you, may betake himself to Antiochus. How much soever they may have weighty grounds of disagreement, this latter is a wonderful master at contriving pretexts; and those who at present hold sway at our court, would desire nothing more than to incline the mind of a youth, both inexperienced and not sufficiently sagacious, to accept of peace on any terms whatever. Certainly, if he has not already concluded it he will do so in a short time. Nor will there be wanting those who will urge him on. And I would there were none among us who would hold themselves and us as slaves to Antiochus, should an opportunity occur for doing so. He will, in truth, attempt every thing, the other not only approving of it, but also, in the mean time, assisting in it; because he will suppose that in this way he is avenging his repulse. In the mean while, cruelty will be kindled everywhere through the kingdom itself, for he will, as women are wont, direct his own rage to another,—a consideration, certainly, not to be accounted last by us of this place. If I wished to regard my own life or private concerns, I should immediately betake myself elsewhere. But when I consider how very important this corner is for the propagation of the kingdom of Christ, I have good reason to be anxious that it should be carefully watched over; and, in this respect, it is for your advantage, and quiet partly depends upon it. What man, imbued with wicked schemes, when he has been estranged from you, will not be moved by despair? But you think that we are wanting in men of discontented and revolutionary character, or in those suffering from want, who have, for a long period, extended their hands to him. However, as often as I reflect particularly upon our wretched brethren who lie crushed under that fearful tyranny, my mind becomes soft and more disposed to this [alliance], as it the more unquestionably appears beneficial for the alleviation of their sufferings. Why is the rage of the tyrant to be removed when he has seen that he is despised and scorned? Is it that thereby the wicked are to have the greater license for tormenting the innocent? Thus, if any alliance does intervene, not only will Pharaoh himself be, for the present, somewhat softened, and the executioners rendered less daring, but it will, indeed, be possible also to extinguish the flames.

I beseech and solemnly implore you then, my dear Bullinger, to ponder in time all these considerations; and if you come to any agreement, strive earnestly to have your brethren remembered whose condition is so wretched and awful. For although I know you have their welfare sufficiently at heart, and am certain that when the matter is raised, you will, of your own accord, be solicitous about it, yet I did not wish to neglect my duty. Indeed, such is his fierceness, that no fixed law can be laid down for you. I hope it is possible to show, however, that some sort of moderation may be exhibited.

Adieu, excellent man, and much esteemed brother in the Lord. Salute especially Theodore, Pellican, Gualter, Vuerduler, and the rest of the fellow-ministers. Present my respects to your colleagues, and to Des Gallars among the rest. I pray the Lord Jesus that he may continue to guide and sustain you by his Spirit; may he bless you and your labours. I have to thank you greatly for the volume of discourses which Haller sent in your name.—Yours,

John Calvin.

[Lat. orig. autogr.—Archives of Zurich. Gallic. Scripta, p. 11.]